Chapter 18: The Ever Growing Demons

The distraction that was a ride on the Puckerman worked for Rachel. There was something about him that made her feel better, even if it went against everything she believed. She said she'd be twenty five before she lost her virginity, but she lost it half past sober at an underage drinking party at Puck's house. And then it wasn't just a onetime thing. She went back for seconds. She didn't know whether to love it because it made her feel so good, great even, or hate it because even though it made her feel so liberated and good, she still felt a little dirty. She wasn't in a relationship with him. He used to be one of her tormentors. But maybe that was part of the thrill. She enjoyed him, she enjoyed the high she got from being with him, and she wasn't sure she wanted to give that up. Did that make her a little slutty? Maybe it did, but who was going to know? Puck wouldn't be bragging about his sexual escapades with the school's fat freak and Rachel didn't exactly have a ton of people lined up to listen to her life story. No one had to know and if it made her feel better, what did it matter? It shouldn't, so it didn't. That's what she kept telling herself. It wasn't wrong. It was right. She wasn't hurting anyone. Puck enjoyed it as much as her. It was like friends with benefits. People did that all the time, didn't they? So why couldn't she? She could and she had nothing to feel bad about. Nothing…

Upon arriving at the studio parking lot after a silent drive there, Rachel uttered a quiet thank you before practically sprinting into the back changing room. It was pretty empty so she had some alone time to clean up and get changed. She slipped the white tights she pulled from her locker over her scrawny kegs. They were loose. They weren't supposed to be loose, but she liked the feeling. To know that something that was once tight now had room for more made her feel indescribably happy. But she couldn't wear them after that day. She made a quick note on her day planner to ask Shelby to take her to pick up some new ballet wear. Her slippers were worn and her leotards were also a bit large on her thinning frame. It was time for an upgrade anyway.

She slipped into the black leo and took a good look at herself in the full length mirror. It was an ugly piece of fabric dressing up and already ugly being. It wasn't a pretty sight, but Rachel never was. Her internal dialogue was cut short as a class was being released. Lacing up her black ballet slippers, the ribbons wrapping several times around her ankles, she watched the group enter. It was a younger bunch made up of tots and other adolescents who tended to have time in the middle of the day to attend the first afternoon class. They were so young and innocent, so unlike Rachel. They didn't have to worry about what they ate or how much to work out. They were all perfect and beautiful. She envied them. She bet they had mothers who loved them, fathers who took care of them, siblings and friends to lean on. She didn't have that. In that moment, if it was even possible, she hated herself even more. They were just kids and she wanted to be them. She wanted to switch places with them and subject them to her messed up life. What kind of person thought like that?

All that she knew was that she needed to clear her head. She needed to clear her head and work out extra hard because she had an excess of calories that Brittany so unknowingly kept her from expelling and she needed to burn them off. Taking one last look in the mirror to make sure every article of mandatory practice attire from the black ballet slippers and black leotard to the white tights and pale pink wrap skirt to the white and pink ribbon holding her hair in the perfect bun was all there; Rachel exited the changing area and went into the empty studio. There was another fifteen minutes before the other class members began to arrive, so she had just enough alone time to warm up and work on the multiple fouettes that were causing her nothing but trouble. Her cabriole could use some work as well. She really had to push herself if she wanted any chance at all of getting a lead in the recital.

Watching herself move in the mirror covered walls, she felt as graceful as a rhinoceros in heels, bulging in all the wrong places. Who would want to watch her perform? She couldn't think of one name. She wouldn't want to see herself perform either, but that didn't deter her dreams. Nothing could, unless she gave up completely, and she wasn't quite there yet. Rachel was mid-arabesque when she heard the door open and turned to see who it was. The lack of focus, however, caused her to stumble and fall to the ground.

"Are you ok Rachel?"

She hastily stood up, noting the slight twinge she felt in her wrist as she did. "Fine Madame Renee. Lost focus and got distracted; that's all."

"You're starting early."

"Clearly not early enough." The self deprecating joke went laughless as she quickly moved on. "I had a few kinks to work out and I knew no one uses this studio before our class. I hope that's alright." It wasn't the first time she did it, and it probably wouldn't be the last. She had never gotten caught before and didn't think it would be a problem, but if it was, she'd just have to be more careful the next time.

"It's fine Rachel. You're a great student here. If you want to come a little early, I have no problem with that. Just don't overwork yourself." She took a long look at the teen in front of her. Her skin was paler than normal, her body devoid of much more than skin and bone. "How are you doing Rachel? I know things have been hard since the accident, but how are you doing?" Rachel didn't expect the sounds of genuine concern to leave her mouth. She didn't expect he pity compliment either. She really just wanted to change the subject to any topic but her, and her dads. They were off limits too.

"I'm doing well thank you." She avoided any and all eye contact. She hadn't talked about her dads in a while and that was one topic the show smile just couldn't cover up the hurt she felt. "It's hard, but I'm getting by. It's an adjustment, but I'm going to be ok." Renee wasn't sure if she believed it. Rachel was always one of her more promising students, still was, but there was something off about her. She threw herself into the art of the dance so hard it was like she was trying to run while standing still. It was worrisome.

"I'm glad to hear that Rachel. Why don't you take a break and help me finish up these packets?" She asked pulling out a handful of folders and a stack of papers from her bag.

"What is that?"

"I should have had them done earlier, but these are the audition packets. There's a list of all the moved that will be required for the auditions and participation consent forms. Do you want to help me finish them up so that we can discuss them during warm-ups?"

"I'd love to help." The pair working together finished up in no time. As if a signal was sent, once the last packet was finished, the rest of the class entered. No more time was wasted and the warm-ups began right away. They were doing a line of simple pirouettes when Rachel felt it. It was that peculiar stitch in her chest again. She thought nothing of it, quickly writing it off like before. Nothing happened the first time, so surely nothing would happen then. In the last turn as she crossed the floor, Rachel felt the lightheadedness seep in. Her body was mid turn when the sensation took over her body and she stumbled her way into first position. She wasn't making a good impression. She wasn't going get any part. She was going to end up at the moving scenery; a rock perhaps, maybe a tree. And that was what she deserved. She was just that bad.

Her balance was off for the rest of the night and she hated herself for it. She couldn't do anything right. What the hell was wrong with her? It must've been the food. She ate too much and didn't do anything about it. It was just resting in the pit of her stomach expanding and ruining whatever chance she had at getting anything right. She just sucked. And while she was sure her gluttonous attack on the food at lunch had something to do with it, she couldn't rule out her natural inability to be great at anything either. She was really just defeated. Nothing was going particularly well in her life. No amount of faking it would change that.

"You're all dismissed. Remember to go over those papers. Auditions have a firm date and time, right after the New Year. That doesn't give us much time. So go home, relax, and I'll see you tomorrow night." Rachel remained firmly rooted in her spot as the ten or so other girls scattered into the changing rooms. She wasn't ready to get up yet. While she personally loved the feeling, she just couldn't pass out in front of others and she knew she was teetering on the brink. She made the conscious decision to stay there, sitting mudroom slowly sipping her water. Once everyone else was gone she could get in another few minutes of practice and then head home. "How are you feeling Rachel?" She was stunned. Was she that obvious?

"I'm great. Why do you ask?"

"Your balance was off all night and you're looking a little pale. Are you feeling alright?"

"Of course. I've never been better." She tried to stand to reinforce her words, but the slight wince when she put pressure on her wrist wasn't helping. Her whole body ached, every joint and every muscle. "I was just distracted, and I think I had too much to eat before coming. If I don't eat light before class I don't glide very well."

"Are you sure that's it?" Would she ever stop with her questions? Yes she was sure. She just needed to work off the rest of the poison fat she consumed and she'd be fine. Nothing was wrong!

"Thank you for the concern. I just need to lay off the pasta overload before dancing. I'll make note of it for next time. And I apologize if I ruined the air of perfection that encircled the room." Because face it, she was the odd woman out. Of all the girls, she was the only ugly one, the only fat one, the only screw up. She was bringing them all down.

"You did no such thing. Go home, get some rest, and you'll be better tomorrow. Everyone has their off days." She was trying to build up Rachel's confidence so the inevitable fall was greater. Just like everybody else, waiting for her to fail. And she would, that much she expected, but she didn't want other people to expect it too. It was demeaning.

"Goodnight Madame Renee." Renee laughed. Rachel was the only one who still called her that. She used to tell her young students to call her that. It made them respect her and be intrigued by her. It was easier to get them to listen. But it stuck with Rachel.

After giving into the fact that there'd be no more alone time for extra practice and then changing, Rachel quickly looked in her bag. She had several unread texts. Most of them were from Shelby. What time are your dance classes over? Much like Rachel, she believed in using proper type, no shorthand. How'd you get there anyway? Did you walk? The texts were endless. Do you need a ride? How many did she leave? Call me when you're done and I'll come get you. No walking in the dark.

She shot Shelby a simple message. Done. Come now. It got the message across without being too crass. Once she got the ok, Rachel grabbed her bags and went to wait outside the empty studio. It was then that she got a message from Puck. 'Sup Berry? Simple… so Puck.

Just finished up with dance. You?

Damn hours, more intense than fball. Chillin' There was a brief pause in their exchange. He was deciding what to say next and she wasn't sure that warranted a response. About today…

What about it Noah? It was a day like any other.

But we don't do that every day. But they could… He wanted to be clear on what it all meant to her. She may have initiated it, but he wanted it too and he wanted to make sure she was cool with everything; no weirdness and all that. He had no intention of hurting her, so if she wanted more, he was going to make it clear that that couldn't happen.

So you don't want to do that again? What was a hormonal, overly testosteroned teenage boy supposed to do with that? He was turned on just reading it. Were the words really coming from Rachel though? It didn't sound like her.

Oh hellz yeah Berry. Do you?

Would we be having this conversation otherwise? Really Noah, use your brain. Definitely Rachel, he was sure then. It will be our little secret. That was what she thought he'd want. His reputation wouldn't be ruined. He'd still be the bad ass sex shark and she'd still be the prude, but they could do whatever they wanted without anybody knowing. She thought she'd save him the trouble and awkwardness of having to ask her himself. In truth, however, he was never going to ask her that. He was actually a little put off by that. Was she ashamed to let him touch her? Was it about Finn? All the girls, even some guys, were always stuck on Finn. He'd yet to see the appeal. But then he pushed the thoughts out if his head when he realized he was still getting some side action with a girl nobody else ever had and there was something to be said about that.

Right Berry a secret.

Talk later Noah? Shelby's here. She didn't wait for a response as she put her phone into her bag and slipped into the passenger's seat. She really wanted to run the way home. She needed the exercise and the space. If she gave herself even a moment of free time she thought about and agonized over the food she ate that day; the food that she just couldn't get rid of and no amount of exercise would excise. Damn Brittany and her ability to prevent nuclear attacks.

"How was class?" Shelby broke the silence as she put the car in gear and began to drive off.

"I ate too much before class so my dancing was sloppy." She was trying to throw that out there so that Shelby didn't make her eat. As much as she wanted to have a little bonding time with the toilet, she couldn't bear the thought of even one more calorie passing through her lips. It was just an unfathomable concept.

"Well, I made dinner earlier and I left it in the oven for you, but if you're not hungry we can just throw it in the fridge for tomorrow."

"Ok." She went back to fiddling with her zipper when she remembered she needed new tights and stuff, preferably by the weekend's end. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to cement her act. Normal daughters ask their mother's to do mundane tasks with them all the time. Don't they? She was sure they did. At the very least, it would make Shelby really believe that Rachel was accepting things and moving on. It seemed worth a try. "So… I was wondering."

"Wondering what?"

"It's not like I can't do it on my own, so if you don't want to feel no pressure to come. And you wouldn't have to pay anything. I still have money from this month's allowance on the debit card my fathers left me." She was rambling. She heard it herself, but it really helped sell the bit whether it was planned or staged… no one would ever know.

"Rachel." She stopped her. "What is it that you're asking?"

"Oh, sorry. I was asking if you'd like to come with me to purchase some new ballet attire. My last pair of tights in the appropriate color has gotten a tear in them and I'm in need of some other items as well." For the first time, she turned to look at Shelby. "It's about an hour drive to the shop I like to use. They do custom fittings and usually have everything I need. I can drive up there myself, but I thought you might like to come." She'd never admit it, she'd probably deny it, but even though it was all supposed to be an act, a part of her wanted Shelby to go with her. For the past few years she had to go alone, and before that, her fathers went with her and embarrassed her when they asked one of the women there what the best form of cleavage support was when dancing. It was always something she wanted a mother for. She wouldn't have to ask such questions. She'd just know.

"I'd love to Rachel. We'll go Saturday afternoon."

"Thank you."

"Any time."

The rest of the night was pretty much a blur to Rachel. Her anxiety was still resting at astronomical levels and she couldn't even succumb to the lightheadedness like she so wanted to. She remembered Shelby talking to her, but she really wasn't paying attention. She wanted to go for a run, but it was almost curfew and breaking that again would ruin the perfect daughter routine. So she stayed in and paced for a good half hour at least. Then she showered and dressed for bed. That's when she noticed her hand was swelling and bruised. She didn't know how that happened. The fall wasn't that hard. Tending it, she spent another hour alternating ice, ten minutes on then ten minutes off. The little details weren't all there though.

School went fine. Friends went fine. Glee went fine. Dance went fine. It was a pretty mundane day all around. That or she really wasn't paying attention to much else other than her obsessive thoughts of food and exercise. She was proud of herself. Although she was extremely anxious and itching to get onto the dance floor and work out, she managed to stay away from the bathroom at school and even get off without Shelby shoving breakfast down her throat. It still didn't make up for the day before, but she was working on it; working overtime on it.

Rachel was home by quarter of eight after a three hour dance class and a forty five minute jog home. All she wanted to do was shower and spend some quality time professing her deep dark thoughts to her journal, but Shelby had other ideas. She needed Rachel to watch Beth for an hour. "It's almost bedtime. Just sit with her and she'll fall asleep. You'll be fine." She assured Rachel. The shower would have to wait.

"Ok Beth, why don't you go to sleep now so Rachie can take a shower? You don't want a stinky sister do you?" Rachel asked as she chased a hyper Beth around the living room. Shelby must've given her the extra sugary juice that night. "Please Beth. Stop running around. It's bed time. You're supposed to be asleep."

"NO!" The little girl yelled as she made a beeline for the kitchen. Rachel simply followed giving up trying to contain the little terror. She wasn't in the mood to deal with diva tantrums. She had a headache. There was a lot on her mind. Shelby shouldn't have left Beth with her. And then she felt bad for thinking like that. Normally, she'd take the time to play with Beth, sing to her, divulge secrets to her, but she honestly wasn't feeling up to it.

When she walked through the kitchen archway, she saw Beth climbing onto the table. That girl was fast. She rushed over, just not in time. The glass bowl that was once a centerpiece was then flying off the ledge and plummeting to its untimely demise, shattering upon impact with the floor. Shards of glass, some tiny and some large, scattered all over the linoleum tiles. "Beth!" She, for the first time, yelled. "What did you do?"

"Mess."

"Yeah Beth. You made a mess." She was angry, her voice gave it away. Even Beth could sense it and her face got all contortiony and her lower lip was beginning to tremor. Rachel was just waiting for the water works. She wasn't disappointed. Beth, still crying, tried to make an escape. "No Beth, stop!" Then the wailing started as Rachel maneuvered her way over to Beth, scooping her into her arms and doing her best to get them out of there without stepping on the glass. Somehow she managed. Beth's cries were down to whimpers as Rachel out her to bed. She'd fall asleep easily after that. Closing the door slightly, Rachel exited the room. She had a mess to attend to.

Back in the kitchen, Rachel took a minute to just stare at the glass mosaic that was now the floor. It seemed to be everywhere. If possible, Rachel was more frustrated than she was just mere seconds before. That was not what she wanted to be doing. She wanted to be taking a long, hot shower. She wanted to finish up her nightly ritual. She wanted to write. And then she wanted to lie in her bed and, if luck was on her side, get the first full night of peaceful sleep in over a month. Everything about the day just seemed to be getting to her and she didn't know why. With the exception of Beth's little devil antics, nothing happened, but it still annoyed her.

Resting on her knees, Rachel began to pick up the pieces one by one. She should've gotten the broom, but she never took the time to bother and learn where Shelby kept things. And she really didn't care enough to do it then. Instead, she grabbed a small bag to through the shards in and opted to use her hand. She didn't care if she got hurt; she just wanted to get done. Mumbling about every stupid thing she could think of, everything she'd done wrong, and all the bad things she was feeling, Rachel began to clean. She was about halfway done and cut free when she heard the front door open and got distracted.

Grabbing one of the larger pieces as she heard the noise, her head shot up to look towards the door she could not see and she gripped the glass a little too hard. The warm stinging sensation brought her attention back to her hand. Yet to release the glass, she just stared at the gash. She wasn't tempted to let up on the glass either. She wrapped it into her fist pushing it deeper into her skin.

"Rachel?" She heard Shelby call, but she couldn't remove her gaze. Watching the river of blood slowly drip from her palm was mesmerizing. It gave her such a rush. It made her forget everything else. Like when she threw up, it made her feel good, free, and devoid of everything else. In those few moments, the entire world was silent. There was no voice in her head telling her every imperfection or how worthless she was. There was no mirror exposing just how fat and ugly she looked. There was just a rush of calm that overtook her and the rest was radio silence. It was a welcomed change. "Rachel!" Shelby called again.

"Kitchen." Rachel answered, finally snapping out of her trance and throwing the glass from her hand into the bag. She was still focused on the gash, but she wouldn't tend to it. She just ignored the small puddle of blood forming on the once pristine floor and continued to pick up the pieces. Shelby walked in.

"Rachel, what happened in here?"

"Your hyper active daughter thought it'd be fun to run around and throw glass objects. They obviously break." Not once did she look up. She could hear Shelby shuffle around the room. She vaguely heard the footsteps approach.

"I've got a broom. Stop using your hands, you'll cut yourself."

"Too late." She said too quietly for her Shelby to hear.

Shelby began sweeping up the glass working her way farthest from then to Rachel. Once she got closer she saw the red on the floor resting under Rachel. "You're bleeding Rachel." It wasn't a question. Shelby immediately stopped what she was doing and ran to the sink. Grabbing a wet and dry cloth she ran over to her daughter and pulled her up. She dragged Rachel to the table, safely away from any glass, and began cleaning the wound. "Are you ok? Does it hurt?" Surprisingly, the answer was no.

Attempting to pull her hand away from Shelby, Rachel said, "No it's fine."

"Hey." Shelby tightened her grasp on Rachel. "We need to get this cleaned up."

"It's fine. I'm fine. I'll clean it myself. Now that you're here I can finally take a shower." This time Rachel successfully pulled her hand away, a cloth wrapped around her hand soaking up the blood, and she made her way out of the kitchen leaving Shelby to finish with the mess.

She went straight to her bathroom and put the water on to a scalding heat. She didn't bother to bandage her hand yet. There was no point. She'd have to do it after her shower anyway. It was still bleeding when she stepped under the cascading water. She watched in utter amazement as the water turned a pale pink as it made its way into the drain. She didn't know why it enthralled her so. She didn't know why it was so hypnotizing. All her knew was that the sheer lack of everything else that occurred because of the happy accident made her feel like the first time she knelt over the toilet. The perfect high that nothing else could compare to. It was safe to say she'd be trying that again; another demon to add to the list.

So it's officially 2012 and I'm happy to say the last few days have been pretty uneventful for me, which is a good thing. Happy New Year everyone!

Here's the cursory apology about my possible mistakes. Sorry for any and all grammatical or spelling errors.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Things are getting worse before they get better. I said that would happen. I'll update as soon as I can but I think I'm going to try and write a chapter for my story on hiatus first. I'll do my best to work on both and have an update by the end of the week. Well, until next time…

I want to say that I'm so grateful for all of the wonderful comments. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and/or added this to their alerts. Don't be afraid to tell me what you think or if there's anything you'd like to see happen.